Walls
by Blau
Summary: AU In the US, he was Ryoma: sarcastic, but pleasant enough to be around, if one ignored his obsession with tennis. In Japan, he was Echizen: arrogant and a bit of a loner. And because he was a loner, it was only natural he would join the track team.
1. Chapter 1

Ryoma hadn't meant for things to snowball like they had. Because, really, he would have loved to play on the tennis team. Seigaku, at least, seemed to have decent players. And he had been fully intent on joining, even walking to the courts with the loudmouth of the class who, from the way he described the team, made it sound like he was the reason for Seigaku's success with tennis. But then he saw two of his other classmates being bullied by older classmen, and Ryoma had stepped in. Perhaps it was okay in Japan for older classmen to take advantage of their juniors, but it certainly wasn't in America. And that, not Japan, was where Ryoma had grown up.

As if embarrassing the olderclassmen and consequently making them angry at him wasn't enough, Momoshiro Takeshi - an eighth grader, and the one who had given Ryoma and Horio the wrong directions to the court - had to step in and create a further scene. Rather than rise to the challenge, Ryoma backed down. It was clear to him the other player was injured and besides that, he didn't want to create a scene. Correcting the teacher during English and sparking a flurry of whispers was bad enough; already his classmates were calling him arrogant and brash for having the gall to say the teacher had been wrong. Imagine what would happen if he joined the tennis team and tried to be himself there!

No, he didn't want to be in the spotlight. Not now. He would adjust to Japan and then join. Until then, he would participate in tournaments that were hosted by tennis clubs and associations. Tournaments, however, weren't frequent. And rather than settle for practicing at home, he looked for other alternatives. He would join another sport.

Sumo wrestling was out of the question. Basketball and baseball were as well: he wanted to avoid teams. Which left him with one other option: track. By the end of the day, he had joined as a long distance runner and had made the team. It wasn't tennis, but it was good enough for him.

Six months after moving to Japan, Ryoma felt he had finally adjusted. In the beginning, he would forget his "place" at school but eventually just stopped socializing with his classmates and speaking up in class unless addressed. He would pay attention to the teacher (or pretend to, anyway) and get the homework done on the roof at lunch to avoid sitting with people. All the stress that had accumulated during the day - keeping quiet when the teacher said something wrong in English, ignoring Horio's loud boasts about how well the tennis team was doing and how awesome the older classmen were, having to rewrite notes he had unknowingly written in his first language - dissipated when that final bell rang. He would go down to the changing rooms and, ignoring the rowdy members of the tennis team, change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before going to the track where the team met.

And then he would run.

After the first lap, things would become a blur. Initially he would think of the US and his old friends before allowing his mind to become blank. Breathe in, breathe out. It was therapeutic; his way of dealing with life in Japan. He wasn't Ryoma from America, nor was he the arrogant and silent Echizen, but Runner 45.

By the time he realized that he was finally clicking with Japan, he no longer had any desire to join the tennis team. Oh, he would have loved to play a match with some of the members that caught his eye when he ran past the courts, but he didn't feel the burning need to register for the team any time soon. Naturally, it was once he had adjusted that things were uprooted once again.

As usual, Ryoma had stayed after practice to continue using the tracks. He no longer wanted to be the strongest in tennis, to be a match for his father, but rather the one who could run the furthest. The one who wouldn't tire. And, as usual, he had been zoning out as he ran.

"Hey!" someone shouted from the tennis courts. Dismissing it as someone shouting at another member of the tennis team, Ryoma continued running. And again the person shouted, this time accompanied by, "Kid on the track! Hey!"

And so Ryoma slowed, looking inquisitively at whoever had shouted at him. The person looked vaguely familiar, but Ryoma couldn't put a name to the face.

"Practice ended awhile ago, you know!" the person shouted, as though Ryoma didn't know.

Ryoma nodded before picking up the speed and continuing on his way, mind already slipping to that foggy state where he didn't think of anything. Distantly, he heard more shouting from the tennis court, but it didn't seem to be aimed at him and so Ryoma continued to run.

Breathe in, breathe out. In, out...

His mantra was cut off when he heard footsteps thumping behind him. Someone else was on the track. But who? And why?

"Hope ya don't mind if I join you," the person said as he ran alongside Ryoma. Ryoma frowned, picking up the speed. He did mind. Running gave him an excuse not to talk to anyone. Doing long distance gave him an excuse not to deal with people.

This person - this boy - didn't seem to catch onto that.

"The captain didn't like me slacking off to talk to you, so he had me run laps since 'I wanted to talk to you so badly,'" the boy continued, keeping up with Ryoma. "He's so tough! I was just looking out for my junior!" A big grin.

Ryoma continued running.

"So how come you're still here? Didn't practice already end for you?" the boy chattered on. Ryoma glanced at him with narrowed eyes before continuing on. The footsteps slowed, and for a moment Ryoma thought the boy had finally gotten the hint until he felt a hand around his wrist. Startled, he jerked to a stop, nearly tripping on the track before he straightened.

"What?" Ryoma snapped. "Yes, practice ended for me. Is it against the rules for me to keep using the track? Because if it is, I'll leave now."

"Whoa, whoa, I was just wondering!" the boy said, holding his hands up in an attempt to placate the agitated seventh grader. "You don't have to leave or anything!"

Whiping the sweat from his forehead, Ryoma turned to start running again but stopped when the other boy snapped his fingers.

"Aha! I knew I recognized you! You're that freshman that wouldn't play with me!" the boy - Momoshiro, Ryoma remembered now - exclaimed. Instantly, Ryoma could feel something settle in the pit of his stomach. This couldn't be good...

"How about a game then?" Momoshiro grinned, putting a hand on his hip cockily. "You play, don't you?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Ryoma nodded. And again Momoshiro grabbed his wrist, tugging him towards the tennis courts.

"Great! Hopefully there's an open court now, or else Tezuka'll make me go back to running laps and I-"

"I don't want to play against you!" Ryoma said, tugging to get out of Momoshiro's grip. The taller boy stopped, staring down at Ryoma incredulously.

"What? Why not? We can play another day if you'd like-"

"No!" Ryoma cut him off. "I'm not tired, I just don-"

This time, it was Momoshiro who cut him off. "Then what's the problem? Come on, just one game and then I'll leave you alone!"

Mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like "you better...", Ryoma allowed himself to be dragged along to the tennis courts. Relieved that the other members were too busy playing their own matches, Ryoma stared down at the ground as Momoshiro went to borrow a racket for Ryoma and tell Tezuka (whoever that was) that they were going to play a quick game.

But what had been assumed to be a "quick" game turned out to be much longer. Winning the first point with serves alone, Ryoma could hear the other members who weren't playing a game come over to their court. He ignored it though, focusing on the match; he would not be distracted by spectators. He refused to let Momoshiro score so much as love off of him, wanting to beat the sophomore so badly that he would never bother Ryoma again.

The murmurs of the other members became louder as more came to watch, until finally an irate voice called the match to an end. Panting lightly, Ryoma once again wiped the sweat from his forehead, pushing his bangs aside. An arm - Momoshiro's, Ryoma discovered - was slung around his shoulders.

"Hey, Tezuka, I think I've found Taka's replacement!" Momoshiro grinned. Several gasps sounded, and Ryoma tensed, forcing the racket into Momoshiro's free hand before moving away. There were too many people watching him, and already people were muttering angrily about how unfair it was that he was being considered for a starter position despite not being on the team. As if Ryoma asked for this! He had to get away, and get away now.

A boy with glasses who must have been Tezuka approached them, followed by a redhead and a boy with two small pieces of hair falling onto his forehead.

"Hoyyyy, he was pretty fierce!" the redhead exclaimed, bouncing on the heels of his feet. A taller boy with a bandana strolled over, glaring at Ryoma (or was it Momoshiro?), an older boy with thick-rimmed glasses trailing behind.

"Or maybe the idiot isn't that good," the boy with bandana hissed.

"Shut up, you stupid viper!" Momoshiro snapped. "You play him! I bet he'll whoop you too!"

"What's your name?" the boy with the weird hair asked as Momoshiro and "the stupid viper" began to argue.

"Ry-" Ryoma began, before correcting himself. "Echizen Ryoma." Family first, and then the individual. That's how it was in Japan, Ryoma told himself.

The boy with the thick-rimmed glasses began scribbling something in a notebook, muttering to himself as he looked back and forth between Ryoma and his notebook.

"What do you think, Tezuka?" the boy who asked Ryoma for his name questioned.

"He'll have to play some of the other starters," Tezuka said, voice rather monotone. Ryoma tensed further. They wanted him to tryout?! But he was already on the track team, and very happy! He didn't want to change all of that! He didn't want people to criticize him again for being different!

"He's already played Momo, so maybe he should play Eiji and Kaidoh?" interjected a boy with light brown hair. "We can see how he deals with different types of players."

"That'd be fun, nyaah~!" the redhead cheered, while the boy in the bandana stopped arguing to hiss quietly.

"I think I'll pass," Ryoma muttered.

Silence.

"What?" Momoshiro asked. Murmurs began to grow louder as the other members of the team began to talk amongst themselves, now calling him "arrogant" for not wanting to be on the team.

"I don't want to tryout," Ryoma said, staring down at the ground so he wouldn't have to look at the others. "I told you that I don't want to play tennis."

"But why?!" the redhead exclaimed. "Tennis is so fun! And you're so good at it! Why wouldn't you want to be on the team?!"

"I'm not interested," Ryoma murmured. More raised voice. He could feel Tezuka , the brownhaired boy, and the one with the odd hair stare at him. The one with the notebook was still scribbling away, muttering to himself.

"N-not interested?" Momoshiro stuttered, as if Ryoma had just commited an unforgiveable sin. "But we're the best! We-"

"I'm not interested," Ryoma repeated. He bowed stiffly to Tezuka before moving away. "I need to go. Excuse me."

"Wait, Echizen!"

"Let him go," Tezuka said. "It's his choice."

"Yeah, but-"

Ryoma left the courts to protests and a feeling that things were going to get a while lot worse.

* * *

**Um, obviously certain liberties were taken with this fic. pleasedon'thateme. I realize that the Ryoma in cannon!verse would never have backed down from a challenge, but this fic was partly inspired by another fanfic in which the author pointed out that Ryoma hadn't been in Japan for long before he joined Seigaku's tennis team. It's understandable that while he is confident in his tennis, he might not be with other things.**

**There's probably going to be one more chapter to this, so... look for an update soon. :3  
**


	2. Chapter 2

By the end of the week, Ryoma was beginning to understand what it felt like to be a cornered animal. Despite the captain's words, the tennis team still hounded after him relentlessly. They all wanted him to play against another starter, but the reason why differed. Half wanted to see if he really deserved the attention he was getting, and the other half wanted to see Ryoma get defeated so completely he wouldn't even _look_ at the tennis courts again. Amongst the starters were similar feelings; some, like Eiji, Momoshiro, and Kaidoh wanted to test him to see if his win against Momoshiro was a fluke or if he was that good, and others like Tezuka, Fuji, and Inui wanted to understand more about the freshmen.

And Oishi, whom Ryoma was quickly learning was the mother hen of the team, simply sought him out everyday to make sure he was okay.

Never had Ryoma received so much attention at school, even when in America and playing tennis on a regular basis. It was making him skittish and even more antisocial; all the "hard work" he had done to make people not talk to him was thrown away because of one stupid tennis match. If only he had ignored his upperclassman, none of this would have happened.

His fellow members on the track team were fairly apathetic to Ryoma's suffering. While he was one of the better runners, he wasn't the best. Add to his loner tendencies, and Ryoma would have to say the track team was almost glad to have an excuse to get rid of him.

And if the track team, where "team" was a questionable term, was glad to be rid of him...

...why on earth did the tennis team, where "team" was the key word, want him?

That seemed to be the hundred dollar question that had plagued him all week. Slumping against the fence atop the roof, Ryoma became lost in his thoughts as he pondered over it yet again. He had done this every day, and never had he come even close to an answer.

"Yo," a voice spoke up, causing Ryoma to jolt and nearly tip his lunch off of his lap. Scrambling to straighten himself, Ryoma looked up... and then up some more. A _tall_ figure stood rather closely to him, the light reflecting off his glasses as he stared down at Ryoma. Looking down at his rice, Ryoma mumbled a quiet greeting in return. It was obvious this person wasn't a first year, and since Ryoma had never spoken to him before he deduced that this older boy had to be from the tennis team.

So even his sanctuary, the roof, had to be ruined too, huh?

Footsteps thudded on the cement, shuffling followed soon after as the other boy sat down next to Ryoma. He didn't lean against the wall like Ryoma was, but rather sat facing Seishun's newest student.

Ryoma said nothing, continuing to stare at his lunch glumly. The other boy didn't seem to mind the silence, for he took out a notebook and watched Ryoma back. Warily, Ryoma gazed at him, muscles tensing. Was he about to be interviewed or something? And what was with that stare? Those glasses were so freak-

"Echizen," the boy said, breaking the silence. "My name is Inui Sadaharu. As you already know, I'm a member of the tennis team." He stopped, waiting for Ryoma to nod slowly before continuing on. "I'd like to offer my services to you."

"Services?" Ryoma echoed, lifting his head slightly to look at Inui better.

"I collect data," Inui stated, raising his notebook slightly. "There's a 99.87% chance that my fellow members have only bothered you to play another game without giving you information about the team, and a 99.99% chance that not one has asked what you wanted."

Growing more wary, Ryoma nodded. Inui continued.

"As not only a member of the tennis team, but as your upperclassman, I want you to know that I am here to answer any questions you may have."

"What do you get out of it?" Ryoma asked, feeling extremely cynical as soon as he spoke. Instead of being offended, Inui simply smiled - something that terrified for Ryoma, for some reason.

"Data on you," Inui simply said. "Now, Echizen, is there anything you would like to know?"

And because Inui had offered - had been the only one to - Ryoma asked Inui all of the questions he had wanted to ask but didn't know who to go to. Having answered all of them, Ryoma had agreed to answer Inui's questions as well. He really didn't want to know why Inui asked him what his least favorite beverage was.

Another week passed.

The hounding by the tennis team did not desist, as Inui had predicted ("98.63%"), and Ryoma continued to frequent the rooftop for lunch. Inui continued to visit him, occasionally bringing (dragging) Kaidoh Kaoru - the 'stupid viper', as Momoshiro had called him - along. Of the starters, most of whom Inui had described since none had formally introduced himself to Ryoma, Ryoma grudgingly had to admit that Inui and Kaidoh were his favorites, with Kaidoh slightly in the lead. Unlike Inui, Kaidoh never asked him random and often _weird_ questions, and for that Ryoma was grateful.

It was at the end of the month that Ryoma finally asked them for a tennis match on Saturday.

A moment of silence as Inui and Kaidoh took in the words, before Inui began to scribble in his notebook and Kaidoh hissed quietly. Fidgetting, Ryoma attempted to stay cool but was failing miserably. All he had asked was if they wanted to play tennis, and they were making it seem like such a big deal!

"Kaidoh can play," Inui said finally, a demonic glint in his eyes; no doubt he was eager to get information on Ryoma's tennis.

"Fshuu," Kaidoh hissed, apparently in agreement.

Hesitating for a second, Ryoma asked for a piece of Inui's notebook paper and his pen. He scribbled an address on it two times before ripping the paper in half and handing the slips to both of the upperclassmen.

"My dad's friend owns a private court that he lets us play on," Ryoma explained. "I don't want there to be an audience. Just you two," He blushed, staring down at his feet, "This doesn't mean I'm going to join the team, okay? I just want to play against someone that's decent."

For a moment, Ryoma felt like his old, arrogant self. Cover embarrassment with arrogance, that was how he did things.

"Sure," Inui said, a nod from Kaidoh.

The day of the match came sooner than Ryoma would have liked, and the doorbell ringing came even faster. Having already changed into his tennis clothes, he grabbed his racquet before opening the door to both Kaidoh and Inui. Opening it wider, he motioned for them to come inside.

"This is your house?" Inui asked, notebook already out and pen poised to take notes.

"Yeah," Ryoma said, uncomfortable. "C'mon, the court is this way."

He lead them to the back of his house, opening the sliding door and continuing down to the tennis court. He took his usual side of the court, silently stating that Kaidoh served. Catching the ball Ryoma threw to him, Kaidoh gripped his racquet firmly and tossed the ball in the air.

The game had begun.

Some time later, the game ended with Ryoma winning 6-5. It had been a good match - one of the best he had in a while, and he said as much.

"You could improve," Inui stated, light glinting off his glasses. "The tennis team-"

"I told you I don't want to join!" Ryoma yelled. He blushed, and then added more quietly, "I would rather people look at me because I'm a good player, and not because I'm the arrogant freshmen who didn't want to join the team."

"The others don't like Kaidoh either-" a quiet hiss from Kaidoh. "-but he still plays."

"The starters are the only ones you need to worry about," Kaidoh said gruffly.

Silence, and then Ryoma quietly said, "I'll try it. But if the others aren't good enough, I'm quitting. Okay?"

Kaidoh snorted, and Inui started writing in his notebook again, already estimating the percentages of who would win against who.

* * *

**If Kaidoh and Inui are out of character, I'm sorry. I had my brother (whose read the series about five million more times than I have) read over this chapter to make sure they're in character and all he said was to "make Kaidoh scarier." So.**

**pleasedon'thateme. I know this chapter is crap and that I'm also crap for making people wait this long and then giving them _this._ Feel free to call me names and send me hate mail. I deserve it.**


End file.
